Hereward to be an enchanter, he took steps to defeat enchantment, if any
existed. An old woman, who had the reputation of being a sorceress, was
brought to the royal camp, and her services engaged in the king's cause.
A wooden tower was built, and pushed along the causeway in front of the
troops, the old woman within it actively dispensing her incantations and
calling down the powers of witch-craft upon Hereward's head.
Unfortunately for her, Hereward tried against her sorcery of the
broomstick the enchantment of the brand, setting fire to the tower and
burning it and the sorceress within it. We could scarcely go back to a
later date than the eleventh century to find such an absurdity as this
possible, but in those days of superstition even such a man as William
the Conqueror was capable of it.

How the contest would have ended had treason been absent it is not easy
to say. As it was, Abbot Thurston and his monks brought the siege to a
sudden and disastrous end. They showed the king a secret way of approach
to the island, and William's warriors took the camp of Hereward by
surprise. What followed scarcely needs the telling. A fierce and sharp
struggle, men falling and dying in scores, William's heavy-armed
warriors pressing heavily upon the ranks of the more lightly clad
Englishmen, and final defeat and surrender, complete the story of the
assault upon Ely.

William had won, but Hereward still defied him. Striking his last blow
in defence, the gallant leader, with a small band of chosen followers,
cut a lane of blood through the Norman ranks and made his way to a small
fleet of ships which he had kept armed and guarded for such an
emergency. Sail was set, and down the stream they sped to the open sea,
still setting at defiance the power of Norman William.